Stupid oneshot I wrote at twelve midnight yesterday bye I'm crying.

"Sylveon?"

At my name—my very plain name—I turned to stare at my friend. Hydreigon. Yes, Hydreigon. He's nothing more than a friend, though I certainly wish he'd be more. But as far as I knew, he liked this grassy serpent-like pokemon who didn't deserve it at all, I mean I had him first—

"That's my name," I rudely snapped, because thinking about her made my blood boil and overspill and melted everything it touched because holy hell that little slime-ball.

"I need you—to help me with something." His words jerk mid-sentence, but I hardly paid attention to it, because truthfully, I was too busy containing my rage and staring at the blank notebook in front of me. "It's about—It's about, well, you know—it's about you-know-who. Um, uh... I need your help, but... Syl? Syl, you don't mind, right?"

—and because I was too busy silently sending the snake mental hate messages I hoped she received, I hadn't the slightest clue what he was talking about. I sat up, a bright beam on my face, before innocently inquiring, "Who is this 'you-know-who'?"

Hydreigon groaned. Unfortunately, it wasn't because he found me dastardly attractive, but because he was so fed up with my oblivion and my clear stupidity. It made me go slightly red-faced, and sent my nerves into a wreck, and I found myself freaking out even further.

"You know—" I glared at him and shook my head, because I didn't know. (Arceus. Arceus, I'm depending on you. Please don't let him see my unattractive red face.) "Serperior. The one I"—his voice dropped to a whisper—"like."

And then I was reminded why I felt so inferior, and I felt like dropping to the ground and crying and screaming and kicking and wailing, and maybe then Hydreigon will suddenly feel this feeling blossom within him, and he'll realise he loved me and he'll confess his love and we'd grow up together and we'd be mates for life—

I could do that. I could so do that.

But then I went, "She's a girl. You can get her. Gosh."

"No! She doesn't notice—and I'm thinking you know, if we fake-dated, maybe she'd get jealous, and—"

FAKE DATES? I sat up straighter and looked more sharp (I hoped) because hey, hey, hey aren't fake-dates to get others jealous the stuff that gets you together with the guy you like? I sincerely hoped he didn't notice my enthusiasm, but, just agree, Sylveon, just agree and he's yours, holy crap!

It came out as, "Dude, no."

Hydreigon started whining, and it was rather adorable. "But, please, Syl—" Ah, how I love it when he calls me that. "—you're seriously the only one I can depend on! Like, you're the only girl friend I have. And it'd be really nice if you helped out, you know?"

You know what's nicer? Subtracting the space between girl and friend.

Anyway. Anyway.

"It's really awkward." Hey, it's the best excuse anyone could use.

"Oh, c'mon! Do it for me!"

"No, Hydreigon... No."

I started sketching along the blank notebook I had with a pencil, but I didn't have a picture in mind so all I was really doing was drawing a curve. And I kept sketching at it. Ha, I should draw a broken heart and show it to him and say, "This is what I'm feeling now." and maybe he'll just understand.

Nope. Instead, I drew a bunch of ribbons.

"It won't be awkward anyway." Hydreigon caught me off-guard with that statement, and I frowned, dropping my pencil. How could it not? I liked him, hell, hell hell, it would be so awkward I'd just melt into an awkward puddle of goo!

"Yes, it would. Because we're actually real-life friends."

"Yeah, but you don't like me or anything."

At that, I nearly choked. Darn. Darn. He nailed a weak spot. I felt like rolling on the ground and coughing up blood. But if I did that, then I would have to go to the hospital. And if I do to the hospital, I won't be able to monitor the both of them and make sure nothing's happening. Nope. NOPE. Hell naw, I can't go to the hospital.

I tried to think smartass, but really, his statement just blew my mind and I couldn't think straight.

"I never said that."

Hydreigon looked shocked, slack-jawed, everything, but he bounded back in a second. "Oh, so you do?"

I'm crying. I'm going to cry. Someone rescue me from this boy before I really start crying a river down in the park.

"Well... no, but, I—"

I wasn't thinking straight. Clearly.

"So you do?"

Yes, darn it, yes I do—

"Shut up, be a gentleman, and kiss me already," I snapped, huffily, may I add? It was such a cliche line from one of those terrible romance movies for losers, but I ended up using it anyway.

It helped, anyway, because he smirked—like I finally understood or something—and complied.